Guilt Can Be a Killer
by JoanIncarnate
Summary: It's been six years. Just when Hiroki thought it was over, he is reminded of killing his childhood friend. Some actions can never be reversed, and some will never let you forget. A series of destruction plays out and who is the true victim? Originally by teabags
1. Slumbering

**WARNINGS: **Yaoi, Language, Sexual innuendo/actions, Violence, OOC

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Junjou Romantica nor any of it's characters. I don't even own this story! This belonged to **teabags**, a very talented writer who unfortunately decided to stop writing but was kind enough to let me adopt her brain baby. The link to her story is attached here (just take out the spaces): www. fanfiction s / 7804169 /1 / Guilt _ Can _ B Killer. Her other stories have been adopted by **Don't Preach** (The Price of Pleasure) and **Update Demon** (One Penny Short of a Schilling).

I have two ways in mind that this story can go down, so... I'm going to write both of them! They will be like alternate endings, or parallel universes, to one another. They start out the same but don't end the same. This one is the angstier first chapter is **teabags'** (I just revised it a bit) and from chapter 2 on, it's mine.

* * *

**CHAPTER 1: Slumbering**

_"Don't laugh at me."_

_He watched the smile stretch across his friend's face, hidden behind a hand that failed to cover it up properly. "You say such ridiculous things, Hiroki."_

_The brunette's fists clenched while he trembled with fury from this offense. "They are _not_ ridiculous."_

_He watched the silver haired man stifle his laughter and let out a weary breath. Akihiko leaned away from the door frame of the apartment and shook his head. "Dear, dear. This is not the time to be making such childish conversation, Hiroki," he huffed._

_"Wh- what?" Not the time? Childish conversation? "I just told you my feelings," he choked out, "and you are ignoring them?"_

_Akihiko sighed impatiently, "What do you expect me to do? Fly at you with open arms?" The man snorted and crossed his arms. It was clear that he had rather this be a joke than to be truth, because if it were true, it would just mean Hiroki was wasting his time._

_Hiroki dropped his eyes to the floor, unable to bear looking at him for another second. He knew it had been a bad idea to confess. He knew it yet he was foolish enough to ignore his rationality. And finally, when he got the chance, this was his reponse?_

_Watching Akihiko's feet walk away towards the sofa, he heard the sound of cloth rustling and a coat zipper being pulled up._

_"Don't leave," he murmured, but it wasn't loud enough for him to hear. "Don't go."_

_"Honestly, Hiroki, you mustn't take this to heart," Akihiko began as he slipped the strap of his bag over onto his shoulder. "It isn't you," he said lightly, almost apologectically. "It's just that I love another."_

_He already knew. Hiroki had already known this. How long had it been since Akihiko fell for that idiot? Six years? And every single day of those six years, Akihiko's love for the simpleton had not ceased, continually twisting the knife in Hiroki's heart that bled with unrequited love. Why? _

The words were playing over and over in his head. The emotional torrents

_were fuming inside of him. His heart raced and his jaw clenched. _

_"For that, I cannot return those..." the silver haired man paused, struggling for an appropriate word, "...feelings."_

_The humor in his tone finally managed to made Hiroki flicker his eyes onto his oldest friend and beloved.__ Amber brown eyes glared at Akihiko, full of hurt and fury. "You say that as if they don't even matter," he said quietly. __His clenched fists tightened, his nails forming bloody crescents into his palms. How dare he? How fucking _dare_ that bastard make a mockery out of his feelings? "I'm not a fucking laughing stock, Akihiko!"_

_"I never said that you were", he replied while arching an eyebrow at his friend._

_The brunette pulled him down by the collar. Akihiko flinched, the anger in those familiar brown eyes something he had never seen directed at him as he did now and yet he'd never seen him in such torment either. Voice trembling, Hiroki searched the lavender eyes for answers. "W-why him? Why does it have to be him?" His voice began to break in between words and he hung his head in shame, for his pride was shattering more than he believed was possible._

_Hiroki slowly lifted his head only to find the silverback glaring down at him with unkind eyes. Akihiko didn't respond, apart from clasping his friend's smaller wrists and taking them away from his chest and they dropped back to his side loosely. __The taller man turned away from the brunette and started to make his way for the door but he didn't get far when the brunette grabbed his hand in desperation._

_"D-" The silver haired man could hear his voice waver. "Don't go, Akihiko."_

_He couldn't leave. If Akihiko left now, it would break whatever was left of him. Hiroki would never recover. He couldn't leave Hiroki- not now, not when he needed him most._

_The hand was yanked away from his own and Hiroki watched him stop by the door with his back still turned. It crushed him to know that he couldn't look in Akihiko's eyes anymore either, for fear of disgust or disappointment._

_"The one I love is Takahiro," he stated clearly. __"Not you."_

_"Akihiko, I-"_

_"Hiroki." There was a sigh and the silver haired man shook his head. "Just stop. Why are you doing this?"_

_"'Why?'" he echoed. The word reverberated within him, only serving to point out his hollowness. "Do you really have to ask that? I just told you that I love you. Is that all you have to say?"_

_"What _can_ I say? Look at you," Akihiko scoffed and Hiroki felt his face burn at the disdain. He knew he wasn't acting like himself. He knew that he was embarrassing himself. But he was doing it for him! Why couldn't Akihiko see that? All of this was for him!_

_"Have you no pride?"_

_The brunette bit down on his lip when he felt it tremble. He could taste the blood on his tongue. That was the final blow. It was as if his body and mind were disconnected. He couldn't stop his hands from shakily reaching the envelope knife that lay on his coffee table and grabbing it._

_It happened so quickly._

_The blood came pouring out everywhere. Even while the silver haired man lay on the floor trying to catch his last breaths, the brunette was still on a rampage, __digging the tool into pale flesh again and again, deaf to the choked cries and stunned terror reflecting in his eyes until Akihiko's sides stopped moving._

_Hiroki lowered his hand slowly, grasp loosening. "A-Akihiko?"_

_When he had realised what he'd done, his wide brown eyes teared up and he dropped the device, dripping red with the evidence of his crime. It fell with a dull clang on the wooden floor into the growing puddle of liquid life._

_"No. Akihiko. No, Akihiko!" The silver haired man lay motionless beside him, covered in crimson, fair hair and skin staining red. "No... NO!" _

_He grasped his cheeks while grinding his nails along them through the tears. He could taste the salt of his tears and the metallic taste that he knew to be his best friend's blood._

_"W-what have I done?" he sobbed._

_"Aki-" He couldn't even finish his friend's name, the one he had loved so dearly. He had taken him away._

_Tortured screams turned to uncontrollable sobs to shaking wails to muffled whimpers._

_"Why?"_

_For the rest of the evening he lay clutching the lifeless man by his side with his face buried into his bloodstained jacket, wishing he could turn back time, but it was too late._

_"I'm sorry." _

_"I'm so sorry."_

* * *

"A-Akihiko!"

Hiroki almost jumped out of his skin as he jerked upright on his side of the futon. His sides were quivering and he had already woken up the dark haired man beside him who lay fluttering his eyes at his lover.

"Hiro-san?" He yawned, "Are you okay?" His concern grew when he saw tears begin well up in those brown eyes he loved so dearly. "Hiro-san..." He soothed while reaching out for him, locking his broad frame around the shaking professor. He rubbed his large hands in circles over Hiroki's trembling torso. "Why are you crying?"

"J-just a bad dream," Hiroki mumbled, trying his best to wipe away the tears but they still fell down his face. "Go back to sleep, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure Hiro-san? You don't look fine," he asked his lover, rocking him gently.

Nowaki was warm, the characteristic heat of the man comforting. His hands were warm. Large, just like-

Hiroki pushed him away. "I'm fine! Just leave it. It was a nightmare," the brunette muttered, now getting worked up by the fuss he was creating. He turned away to ignore concern in his lover's eyes. "I'm fine."

Retrieving his hand, the doctor tried not to feel rejection in Hiroki's push. Nowaki tilted his head to the side, brushing another tear away from his face and snuggled back down into his pillow. "I'm right here if you need me Hiro-san, you know that, right?"

The professor sighed. "Yes."

Just as Hiroki thought Nowaki was asleep, the dark haired man laid uncomfortably with his eyes shut. The softening sobs and muffled sniffles of his lover did not escape his notice and slowly weighed upon his heart.

But it was just a bad dream... wasn't it ?

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

I'm so excited! This is my first Egoist fanfic, and my first angsty fic! (Although, technically, it's not mine.) If you liked it, please drop off a review. If you really, REALLY liked it, please let **teabags** know by dropping her a supportive PM or review. That being said, since this is my first attempt at an angsty, non-happy, non-cheesy flufficus story, I would love to know what you thought of it. All opinions, suggestions, or commentary are appreciated.


	2. Awakening

**CHAPTER 2: Awakening**

Nowaki watched his lover maneuvering around the kitchen. Hiroki had woken up and gone about his morning as usual but Nowaki couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the nightmare than his Hiro-san was letting him know. What he did know was that if he asked about it, the professor would feel like Nowaki was hovering.

So he opted to silently observe.

Currently, Hiroki was brewing a cup of coffee and making some eggs since it was his turn to make breakfast. Nowaki was waiting patiently at the dinner table, not offering help like he wished to, because he knew how offended and irritated that would make Hiroki. Dark blue eyes traced over his lover's form and his lips quirked up when he noticed an unruly lock of hair sticking out of Hiro-san's head. _'Bed head.'_ He smiled to himself. No matter how many times Hiroki told him not to call him that, the word "cute" fit the brown eyed professor perfectly.

_'A-Akihiko!'_

Lifting a mug of hot tea to his lips, Nowaki frowned. Who was Akihiko? One of Hiroki's previous lovers? Obviously it was someone important, if Hiroki's panicked tears and dream were any indication. But Hiroki was never one to share his past, and neither was Nowaki. Asking now would just seem like prying. Sighing, the big friendly giant lowered his gaze, idly tracing a finger around the rim of his mug. He knew Hiroki had had lovers before, and he knew that Hiroki did not keep in touch with any of them anymore, so why was he still jealous? It was stupid, and Nowaki knew that Hiro-san would say exactly that if he confessed his concerns, but that small negative part of him still nagged him.

"Stop that," Hiroki said, setting down the plates for breakfast. Nowaki looked at him, and the older man continued, "Stop watching me like I'm two seconds from breaking down, and stop thinking too much into it." Hiroki sat down on his chair, "It was just a nightmare. Nothing more, nothing less."

Blinking, Nowaki ducked his head and savored the warm feeling blossoming in his chest. "Yes, Hiro-san."

"Hmph."

They both said "Itadakimasu" and ate in relative peace, exchanging mindless chatter now and then. It might rain today, bring an umbrella. We haven't had stir fry in a while. Okay, I'll go to the market. How's work? Fine, how are your patients? Ah, yes, they are doing well. How are your students? As stupid as ever. Chuckles and the sound of chopsticks.

"Hiro-san?"

Hiroki just grunted, not looking up from washing the dishes.

"Who is Akihiko?"

And just like that, Hiroki stilled. A moment later and he continued washing the dishes, no other indication of the question except for his tensed jaw and forceful scrubbing. "Why?"

"I- ah, no reason," Nowaki said quietly. "I know you said that it was just a dream, and I believe you. I just wanted to know."

"No one," Hiroki muttered through grit teeth. "He is no one."

Nowaki looked away. "I see." Hiding his hurt (though not well), the doctor stood. "I think I'll change now. It is almost time for me to go." And defeatedly, he retreated back to his room.

Hiroki cursed and threw the dishrag into the soapy sink, making bubbles fly everywhere. He hated that Nowaki could see right through him with his blue, loving eyes and pure heart. He hated making Nowaki feel that way, hated seeing that fake smile plastered over his lover's face, hating seeing Nowaki look like a kicked puppy, but most of all _hated _knowing that he was the reason why Nowaki would hide.

But the dream was bad enough. It just brought back every moment of that horrible night in vivid, disgustingly high-definition clarity. Any image of composure that he had managed to build over the six years, cracked. Any part of the incident that had been successfully suppressed since then, completely resurfaced. And, god- just _god, _even hearing the name was like a nightmare.

_'Who is Akihiko?'_

A choked gasp escaped, and it took a while for Hiroki to realize it came from him. Covered up to the elbows with soap suds and gripping the sink with white knuckles, Hiroki breathed in and out, in and out in deep shaking breaths.

Nowaki's footsteps could be heard through the walls and over the running water. Nowaki. Hiroki closed his eyes and inhaled. Nowaki. He chanted the name in his mind like a mantra.

That was right. Nowaki was still here. Nowaki loved him. Nowaki could hold him together, make him forget, make him feel forgiven- even if he had no idea what horror Hiroki was capable of. Nowaki was never going to know. No one was to know.

He was safe.

Exhaling, Hiroki opened his eyes, brown and clear, right as Nowaki stepped out. Tugging his shirt into the right places, Nowaki leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Goodbye, Hiro-san. I might be on the night shift later, not too sure yet, but I'll call you, okay?"

Hiroki nodded and was about to shove the affectionate doctor out the door, but then something occured to him. "Nowaki?"

"Hm?" Nowaki asked over his shoulder as he pulled on his jacket. He froze when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist.

Hiroki tilted his head up, soft spikes brushing up against Nowaki's head, and placed a gentle kiss of Nowaki's cheek, so light and quick that Nowaki had to wonder if he had just imagined it. Then Hiroki immediately jumped off as if Nowaki magically contracted leprosy in the span of half a second, shouted "Now get out of here!" and stomped away in a hurry with his entire face and neck blushing.

Nowaki just stood there, stunned and grinning like an idiot by the door, before shouting out "Bye, Hiro-san! I love you!"

"Shut up, idiot! The neighbors can hear you!"

"But Hiro-san, you're yelling too!"

And it didn't even hurt when a book came flying at his face.

* * *

Hiroki sighed and leaned against his chair with a satisfying _pop_ in his joints. He put down his glasses on his desk and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

What a long day. The scenario with Nowaki from this morning had put him on edge and already set the tone for an awful day. As it seemed, the Fates only liked proving the brunette right when he was being negative.

Miyagi was having a feud with that blonde brat of his and was going through mood swings faster than a pregnant woman. One second he was depressed and sulking over his coffee, the next second he decided that the only way to get out of his funk is to harass the nearest poor unsuspecting soul. So in other words, Hiroki. And that meant that he had to cover the emotional idiot's ass by teaching his class. Normally, the brunette wouldn't have minded since Miyagi's students actually _chose_ to take the course, meaning they were serious students who knew what they had gotten into. However, upon entering the classroom, Hiroki recognized one of his previous students. Apparently, Hiroki's class had taught the Takahashi boy nothing about punctuality. After that, Hiroki retreated to the safety of his office with the meager hope of an hour of silence and productivity before he went home. Lo and behold, he opens the door only to walk into the dean's son straddling his colleague.

"Wait, Kamijou- it's not what it looks like!"

Hiroki just walked out wordlessly and decided to visit the university library, because who knew how long it would take the two to make up this time.

So now, after having read a fairly interesting analytical work on classical fairy tales, Hiroki was delaying his return to his office and lazily stretching over his chair. He had expressly chosen this table at the emptiest part of the library, concealed by the bookshelves holding the least popular of books, because the last thing the professor wanted was for some students to wander into his territory, deciding that this would be a suitable place for a quickie.

As a memory resurfaced of him and Nowaki in this very same library doing that very same thing on a particular stormy night, Hiroki cleared his throat and conveniently pushed away that thought.

Inhaling the scent of yellowed pages, wooden furniture and dust, the professor could almost feel the tension of the day ease away. With his eyes closed, he could hear the sounds of footsteps softened by the carpeting and the whispers of students. The setting sun filtered in through the windows and warmed Hiroki's skin. He supposed he could give himself a couple more minutes before returning to the office to pick up his things.

The sound of a phone vibrating against the table buzzed loudly through the silent walls of Hiroki's selfmade fortress.

Hiroki groaned and reluctantly grabbed his phone. It was probably Nowaki, calling to tell him about his shift. Flipping it open, he lifted it to his ear without even bothering to open his eyes. Speaking quietly, he said, "Nowaki, I'm in the library right now so can you make this quick?"

A bland chuckle rang through the phone and the man on the phone said, "Sorry, but I do believe this will take some time."

Huh? Chocolate brown eyes opened. "Who is this?"

"You have forgotten me already? Well, I do suppose it has been some time since we last saw each other. Six years, to be exact."

That voice... Hiroki's blood ran cold. No, it was impossible. He hadn't heard from the man in years! After all this time, Hiroki had been hoping that he would never hear from him again.

"What do you want?"

The man hummed, "I think this sort of conversation is best held in person. And in private."

Heart stopping at his throat, Hiroki was almost afraid to ask: "Why?"

"You will find out then," the calm voice said over the phone.

"I decline."

"Really, Hiroki? I don't think you are quite in the position to be making such a choice."

Hiroki scoffed, irritation spiking despite his apprehension. "Haruhiko, it seems you are implying that I actually _have_ a choice."

The brunette clenched his fists, he could almost _feel_ the man smirking at him through the phone.

"You are right- you don't. I am sure you have not forgotten that you still owe me for a little... cleanup incident?"

Head down and brow furrowed, Hiroki buried his free hand in his hair. Why? Why did this have to happen? After all this time, _why? _Softly, he replies. "No."

"Ah, good. Where are you right now?"

"At the university."

"Are you teaching?"

Hiroki almost wanted to laugh at that question. "If I said yes, would that even matter to you?"

"Why, you insult me. After all, Hiroki, I know you are one who does not wish to let your personal and professional lives clash," Haruhiko laughed, condescendingly smug. "Isn't that right?"

Hissing quietly, Hiroki wanted to throw his phone against a wall. Instead, he held it in a white-knuckled grip, knowing that whatever he did would be futile against this man. "No, I am not teaching right now."

"Excellent. Then I will have a car ready for you at the main entrance at six. Be there," Haruhiko's tone clearly indicated that it was not a request.

"How will I know which car?"

"Oh, you will know."

Before Hiroki could reply, Haruhiko hung up.

Listening to the dial tone ring at his ear, Hiroki sat frozen to his chair. He couldn't believe that had happened. Yet the phone in his hand was evidence of the phone call. Burying his head in his crossed arms, the brunette slumped over the table.

Six years. Six years Haruhiko had not contacted him. Other than seeing him occasionally on the news as the representative of the Usami corporation, there had been no word or sign of the man since then. Hiroki had thought the man had forgotten and would just let him be.

Chuckling morosely at that thought, Hiroki cursed his naivety. He knew better than to trust that scheming bastard. He should have known from the moment he called the man for help that night, that someday Haruhiko would be back. The man was far too calculating to let such a wonderful oppurtunity of blackmail go to waste, even if Haruhiko had benefitted from Hiroki's error.

Heart thudding to a stop, Hiroki's eyes widened as he realized what Haruhiko wanted to talk about.

_Akihiko._

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

Sorry for taking so long with this, I was just preoccupied with some other things and trying to get across the right feelings. I have to admit that I have never tried my hand at this type of genre before so any feedback would be great! But if you ever feel like I have been neglecting a fic, feel free to hurry me. I don't mind. If you have any suggestions, also feel free.

I have no idea how long this will be. I am hoping to make this around 15 chapters but it will probably be closer to... 7?


	3. Hunting

**CHAPTER 3: Hunting**

Checking his watch again, Hiroki frowned.

5:42.

He was early, he could have stayed at the library for a couple more minutes. _Could _have but should not. Who knew what Haruhiko might do for being a few minutes late? Rubbing his arms for warmth, Hiroki shuddered. He knew he should have grabbed a jacket before he left today. The professor buried himself into his long scarf so that only his eyes and unruly cinnamon mop peeked out of the blue scarf. Hiroki checked his watch again.

5:45.

Damn that bastard and his punctuality. Knowing the man's irritating exactness, Hiroki knew that the corporate heir would show up at 6 on the dot- not a moment sooner nor later. Looking at the students and faculty milling about (most too intimidated of The Demon to give him more of a greeting than a nod and quick "hello"), he only hoped that Haruhiko would enter in an inconspicuous manner, something the man's late brother had never understood.

Akihiko...

_... Hiroki stared at his hands, stained crimson with the blood of his closest friend and_ _dearly beloved. Brown eyes, wide with fear, wavered back and forth from his hands to_ _the pale corpse draped over his legs._

_"No...no, no, no!" He screamed. "What did I do? No! Akihiko! I'm sorry! I'm sorry," he_ _sobbed into the cold chest of the dead man..._

-HONK, HONK-

The sound of the car horn brought the professor out of his flashback. Hiroki looked up and felt his blood run cold when he saw a car. No, not simply any car- a bright red sports car.

_"Hiroki, Hiroki!" Akihiko stopped his running as he caught up to his friend. He used_ _Hiroki's shoulder as a support as he caught his breath._

_"What?" Hiroki snapped. That goddamn asshole just disappeared for a week without a __single word, completely breaking his promise to go see Hiroki's kendo match. He had to_ _ask Tanaka to even know where Akihiko had gone. _

_Akihiko grinned, a mischievous gleam in his eye, completely unaware of the way he was_ _making his dear friend's heart skip a few beats. "Come on, I have something to show_ _you!"_

_"No," the brunette turned away, prepared to continue his journey to school. "I'm mad at_ _you." __Now that he was back, he assumed_ _Hiroki would forgive him so easily? Not likely! __Too many times he had let the spoiled Usami get away with being selfish. Well, too_ _bad, not this time!_

_Too easily, Akihiko sidled up to him again. Damn his and his long legs. How did the boy_ _grow so fast? Hiroki could swear they were the same height a couple months ago. "You_ _are? Why?"_

_Hiroki used the Kamijou-glare on him, already gaining infamy in their high school._ _Probably the best feature he had inherited from his father. "If you don't know, then don't expect me to forgive you."_

_Mentally, the brunette patted himself on the back. Nice job, Hiroki, nice job, indeed._

_"Come on, Hiroki," the aspiring writer slipped his arm into Hiroki's, the two now thoroughly entangled. "You're not making me beg, are you?"_

_"Screw you," Hiroki pulled his arm back and sped up a little to gain some distance._

_Akihiko grabbed his hand and stared back at him with those big, sad purple eyes like some sort of abandoned puppy._

_And just like that, Hiroki could feel his resolve crumbling. _

_Hiroki knew he should put up a fight. He really should. But how could he, when the chill_ _of his friend's hand was miraculously warming his heart? He sighed, long-suffering and_ _forever destined to give into the silver haired man-boy's whims. "Forget it. What do you_ _want?"_

_"You know how I've been in England this past week?"_

_"No," he snapped. "I did_ not_ know. I had to ask Tanaka-san of all people, because some_ _selfish people do not have the sense or consideration to tell their friends when they can or_ _cannot keep a promise!"_

_"Oh, come off it," Akihiko said with a roll of those irritatingly beautiful eyes. "Are you_ _going to let me finish my story or what?"_

_"Hmph."_

_"Anyhow, I was away visiting my grandfather and I brought home a little gift he gave_ _me."_

_Hiroki looked around them. They didn't usually go down this road. "Where are you_ _leading me?"_

_A chuckle ruffled the hair on the nape of the brunette's neck. Two large icicle hands_ _covered his eyes and there was the warmth of breathing on his ears. "I should have __known that you would start figuring it out. You'll know when we get there."_

_Hiroki hoped his friend didn't notice how the words and the feel of that voice rolling off_ _his skin made him shudder._

_Suddenly the two reached a stop._

_"Are you ready?"_

_Hiroki scoffed. "Just take your hands off of me already." Don't. Don't ever let go._

_Strips of color and light entered the brunette's vision as the hands lifted._

_"This-" Hiroki gasped, "Oh my god!"_

_"Tada!" Akihiko grinned, almost blindingly beautiful in his boyish joy. "My very first_ _car!"_

Akihiko's bright red sportscar.

Nearby, a few students and teachers ogled the flashy car.

"Damn, hot ride. Wish I could afford one like that."

"Whose car is that? Must be loaded."

"What's a guy with a car like that doing here?"

A window rolled down and Haruhiko looked at the brunette with cynical amusement. "Are you coming or not?"

Oh god. It felt like the air was getting thinner. Hiroki inhaled and swallowed the thumping heart rising to his throat. He pulled the car door open with clammy hands and seated himself.

Haruhiko nodded at the seatbelt. "I don't care much if you aren't in the habit of using a seatbelt but I would rather you not die on me any time soon."

Breathing evenly, Hiroki tried to mask his apprehension. He pulled his seatbelt over his torso, ignoring the way the little 'click' reminded him of locks and chains. "How kind of you to care," the professor muttered.

Smirking, Haruhiko locked the doors. "I know I am not your favorite Usami, but I've always been kind to you, dear Hiroki."

Hiroki chose to ignore that. His red-brown eyes looked out the window, not pleased to see the students outside still milling around. All their eyes were on the car.

"Hey, isn't that...?"

"-It's Demon-Kamijou!"

"-The Usami conglomerate heir. What was his name again?"

"Usami Haruhiko."

"They know each other? Hm, didn't know professor Kamijou had such connections."

The murmurs of rumors faded away as Haruhiko drove the European sportscar away.

Hiroki kept his eyes out the window, fists clenched on top of his lap. "Since when did you start driving cars like these?"

"I usually don't. But you _are_ a rather special guest, so this called for something a bit more- ah, ostentatious, don't you agree?"

Hiroki said nothing, looking out the window. God. Akihiko's car. It still smelled like him. Cigarette smoke, cologne, and coffee. He could almost hear the sound of the pale haired man's pen tapping impatiently behind him.

"I said, 'don't you agree?'"

Hiroki mumbled something in acquiescence as he ran his fingers over the smooth leather seats. It was exactly how he last remembered it. This was Akihiko's baby, of course it was taken care of it. How dare Haruhiko for even touching this car! That was desecration in itself.

"You need not go to all this trouble for me."

"Nonsense. What is a favor or two between two old childhood friends? I mean, it wouldn't be the first favor I have done for you."

Hiroki said nothing.

"Yes, how long has it been since then?" Haruhiko hummed in mock concentration and tapped his fingers along the steering wheel. "Six years, I do believe. If I recall correctly, that was also the last time any one saw my brother dearest-"

"What do you want from me?!"

Haruhiko smiled at him, cold and snakelike. "You would do well to learn not to interrupt, Hiroki. It is most impolite, and I do not take kindly to things not going my way."

Brown eyes narrowed and Hiroki swallowed down the acerbic retort standing ready at the tip of his tongue. He had to learn to keep his temper in check- especially with this man. "I apologize."

Those lifeless brown eyes peered into his own, a silent battle of wills warring within the staredown before Hiroki looked away. Haruhiko smirked, "I forgive you."

The corporate leader opened up the roof of the sportscar and pushed his seat down. "I would get comfortable if I were you; depending on how this conversation goes, this is could be a rather long drive."

Hiroki looked at the man. Was he serious? He really thought that he would be able to relax in his presence? He couldn't have been at ease even if they were in a Zen temple and he was doped up the world's supply of morphine. Drumming his fingers against his lap, Hiroki exhaled slowly through gritted teeth.

"As for your question, my answer is quite simple. I only want one thing from you: the Kamijou corporation."

There was the odd moment where the words sort of drifted around in Hiroki's brain before finally sinking in.

"You want _what_?!"

Haruhiko sighed, as though his request was really so simple. "I want to create a merger between the Usami conglomerate and Kamijou corporation. To do so, I wish to acquire the rights to the company from you."

"That is just ridiculous! You know the company doesn't belong to me! If you want to talk business, speak with my father," the professor said, crossing his arms.

"And there lies the problem. You see, why would I possibly come to _you_ if your father had agreed?"

"Look, if the old man said no, there's nothing I can do about it. His company, his rules."

"Exactly. That is why you will take the company from him."

Hiroki blanched at that. "Oh, you are _kidding_ me! This conversation is just getting more and more absurd."

"It is just like you said- 'his company, his rules.' What if it wasn't his company anymore?" Haruhiko looked at him pointedly, "_Your_ company, your rules- or to be precise, _my _rules."

He knew he shouldn't but he couldn't help it. Hiroki laughed. "You really think that my father would just give me the company so easily? It's like you don't even know the man."

"This isn't a request. There is no other answer other than 'yes'."

"Even if I could get the company into my hands, what makes you think that I would hand over the reins to you? I may not be part of the company, but I know how much work my ancestors put into making it as successful as it is today."

"I don't think you are seeing things the way I am. Hiroki, you are in no position to refuse. When I want something, I _will_ get it."

Hiroki ran a hand through his hair. God, this man was persistent. "I can't give you something that I cannot obtain, do you understand?"

"Do _you_ understand that I can and will force my hand if need be?"

"Look, it doesn't matter how you plan to force me into this," Hiroki frowned. "The facts are that my father officially cut me out of the company and any relevant inheritance in exchange for me being able to become a literature professor. It was the deal we made and I don't plan on breaking it."

Haruhiko glared at him as the car slowed to a a look around, Hiroki noticed that he was dropped off right outside of his apartment. "I don't care how you get him to agree, as long as you get him to agree. Otherwise, there will be most unfortunate consequences for you."

Still laughing, Hiroki shook his head. "Sorry, but I cannot help you with that," he said as he stepped out of the car. "You'll just have to think of some other way, Haruhiko."

Haruhiko looked at the man with steely eyes. "If that is your answer, I sincerely hope you won't regret it," he handed Hiroki a business card, "but you will reconsider soon enough. Give me a call when you want to negotiate."

Knowing Haruhiko's issue with power and control, Hiroki took the card even though he had no intentions of ever seeing the man again.

The red sports car sped away with the quiet pur so characteristic of luxury cars.

Brown eyes watched the car as it vanished out of sight and Hiroki exhaled a breath of relief.

* * *

Amidst the mini-fortress of papers to be graded that also protected him Miyagi's presence, Hiroki looked at the calendar on his desk. Frowning, he swiveled his chair over. "Miyagi. What day is it today?"

"Miyagi Appreciation Day. You may display your appreciation in any form of PDA that you like."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I." The taller professor grinned at him from across the room. "You have been more catankerous and hostile lately than usual. Do you need a hug?" He held out his arms invitingly and wiggled his eyebrows.

Rolling his eyes, Hiroki swiveled back to his mountain of papers. "Do you need a castration?"

Miyagi chuckled and loped his way over to his colleague. "I didn't realize you wanted to get your hands on me so badly, Kamijou." He leaned over Hiroki, mere inches to his face. "That doctor of yours not giving you enough loving?"

"Get any closer and I will get Nowaki to teach your brat how to properly remove your balls."

The dark haired professor winced but he did back away. "No thank you, I am sure both Shinobu and I prefer me the way I am."

"Hn."

Miyagi watched Hiroki filter through the paper, red pen wielded as his weapon of choice. "But in all seriousness, what's up with you? You have been on edge since last week."

Last week, meaning ever since Haruhiko made his ridiculous visit. "Nothing, I'm just stressing over something personal."

It was ridiculous, but Hiroki knew Haruhiko and he knew he was a stubborn man who got what he wanted. Yet he hadn't contacted Hiroki since then. It was foolish but Hiroki had already begun to hope that Haruhiko would leave him alone now.

"Personal?" A wicked grin stretched across Miyagi's face. "With you, that word could only pertain to one person." The professor grabbed Hiroki's calendar off of his desk. "Aw, pandas. I knew you were a softie under all that scowling-"

"Shut up," Hiroki growled through his blush, "It was a present from Nowaki."

"Aha! Here it is, right here: the source of all my sweet honey's stress," Miyagi pointed at the circle date. This Friday. "What's that circle for? Birthday? Anniversary?"

Frowning Hiroki looked closely at the calendar, double checking the month and the day. "Anniversary. The first time we met." He couldn't believe it had slipped his mind. He mentally noted that he would need to get a present after work.

"Awwwww!" Miyagi gushed on, hugging Hiroki tightly. "Why don't we have a first-time-we-met anniversary, Kamijou, honey?"

"Miyagi," Hiroki warned.

"I mean, after all the lovely times we shared, you would think we would have a special day, just for us."

"I'm warning you, let go."

"Ah, I see your point, Kamijou. With us, every day is a special day! Yes, that is the nature of our beautiful relationship."

"Is that what it is?" Shinobu asked flatly from the doorway. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked like a bristling cat, timing the exact moment to attack.

Hiroki had long ago stopped wondering how the blonde managed to have the most impeccable timing, and the most stealthy of entrances. Perhaps he really was a ninja...

Miyagi quickly released him to console his blonde boy toy and futilely attempt to dig himself out of the hole he plunged himself into.

"Shinobu-chin, I was just-

"Joking?" Shinobu snorted. "Yeah, I've heard that one before."

Shaking his head, Hiroki picked up his books and bag, calling out to his colleague. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As he made his way out, Hiroki thought about Haruhiko's odd behavior. Haruhiko was a cold, exact man- truly the son of his father. He could be expected to plan and calculate, that much Hiroki understood, which was exactly why something felt so off about the man's leniency regarding his refusal. As much as he wished it was true, the brunette knew not to place his hopes too high. It had only been a week since their last meeting: this wasn't over yet.

If anything, this was the calm before the storm.

His cellphone's vibrations brought him out of his ominous musings. The professor pulled his phone out curiously and a blinking new text message peeped back at him.

_Nowaki: Hi, Hiro-san. You're probably on your way home now, right? Sorry, but it doesn't look like I will be home for dinner. It's a busy night. *sigh* I miss you! Do you miss me too? Okay, I have to go now. Love you! XOXOXO_

_'That idiot,' _Hiroki brushed his thumb over the words fondly. His fingers moved quickly to send his reply.

_Hiroki: Yeah, I'm heading home now. Got it, the food will be in the fridge when you come home._

Hesitating for a moment, the professor pressed a few more buttons and "send" before he could change his mind.

_Hiroki_:_ Miss you too._

Sighing, the professor decided to push the matter of Haruhiko out of his mind for cheerier thoughts. _'Now, what should I get that giant idiot for our anniversary?'_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Sorry I have been slow with updates lately, it is a really busy time right now. Between my social life, academic stuff, all my old projects and new projects (I am now obsessed with the Morgan/Reid fandom of Criminal Minds, and I have started an orginal story in livejournal under the username "RemnantsCarnate" with a friend), I probably won't be able to update much (for any of my stories) until January.


	4. Cornering

**CHAPTER 4: Cornering**

On Friday night, Hiroki eagerly set forth for home with that lightness in his heart often associated with contentment. There was not a scowl to be seen on his face as he rushed home to his giant goofball.

The week had gone by rather quickly once he realized that he had something to look forward to at the end of it. Work had been light, seeing as how a break was coming up soon and both the students and faculty could feel the giddy excitement in the air of having a week off. The dean's son had dropped in a few times over the week, leaving Miyagi on cautious and tame, which meant less harassment and more professionalism. Best of all, Haruhiko still hadn't contacted him yet, leaving Hiroki to wonder if the man had hopefully come to his senses.

"I'm home."

"Welcome home, Hiro-san!"

Hiroki smiled at the sight of his exuberant lover and closed the door behind him.

Nowaki crossed the apartment with a few long strides and gathered his beloved in his arms. "Happy Anniversary, Hiro-san," he spoke softly into his ear.

"Yeah," Hiroki said with a blush, briefly returning the hug. "You too."

"Dinner will be ready soon. Do you want to take a shower first?"

"Maybe later. I just want to sit down for a while."

Nowaki nodded and made way for the brunette to enter the living room.

Hiroki sat himself down at the couch and angled his body perfectly so that he could see Nowaki bustling in the kitchen. He sighed and leaned his head on the couch, taking comfort in the sight of his dark haired lover. Hiroki admired the view with both pride and envy. Those broad shoulders and long legs... Nowaki really had no clue how attractive he was, both inside and out. He had no idea what he had ever done to deserve someone like Nowaki but he sure as hell was not complaining.

He supposed it just showed that karma was a load of malarkey. Clearly, good things _could_ happen to bad people.

Shaking those dark thoughts away, Hiroki thought better of it and decided to clear his head with a quick shower.

He closed the bathroom door and stripped down. He stepped into the spray of hot water, visibly relaxing at the water hitting his skin. Rubbing the soap across his body, Hiroki smiled absentmindedly at the thought of Nowaki. He truly was blessed to have him by his side. To think that it had already been six years since that fateful day they met, and consequently started their journey together. Hiroki could remember that day as if it were just yesterday...

* * *

What had he done?

Hiroki's head hung low and his eyes were void of feeling. The man's motionless state revealed nothing about his inner turmoil, the war of emotions taking a toll on his mind.

What had he done?

He had killed a man. He had single-handedly ended a man's life just mere hours ago. Not just any man, at that. He had killed his _best friend_. His one true love. And over what? Love? Rage? Frustration?

Whatever the reason, it wasn't worth this encompassing guilt and fear. It wasn't worth the loss of the most important person of his life. Had Hiroki known how badly this would have turned out, he would have just kept his love a secret for the rest of his life, even if it killed him to see Akihiko happy with another or unhappy for another. He would have been content staying by his side as his faithful friend and nothing more, if only that meant that Akihiko could still be here.

Hiroki shuddered as the image of his dear friend's body lying cold and dead on the floor flooded his mind...

_It had seemed like an eternity had passed while Hiroki sat there watching the puddle of blood grow and stain the hardwood floor red, though it had probably only been no more than a few hours. The ticking of the clock meant nothing to him. The chill setting into the condo was not noticed. Not even the sticky drying blood on his skin was felt anymore. __His eyes were all cried out, his body numb, and his mind blank. _

_It seemed surreal. _Un_real. Like a nightmare he couldn't wake from, though his mind had never been able to conjure such a vision of horror._

_This just simply couldn't be happening._

_Hiroki had just sat there and let the blood soak into his clothing. He hadn't even noticed the door opening or hesitant footsteps signalling the presence of another._

_A shuddering gasp and keys falling with a clank to the floor finally brought Hiroki out of his comatose state. Hiroki slowly turned his head towards the third person, feeling absolutely nothing upon seeing Haruhiko frozen in shock._

_"Oh- oh my god."_

_Haruhiko's brown eyes were wide as he evaluated the scene. __His brother, pale and unmoving on the floor in an island of drying blood. Cuts and stabs adorned his torso like a pattern on fabric. Kamijou Hiroki, sitting next Akihiko with empty eyes and trembling __bloodstained hands__. An envelope knife, caked in red, lying near the two._

_"Is he..." Haruhiko swallowed. "Is he dead?"_

_Hiroki opened his mouth before closing it. His brow furrowed, as if appalled by the discovery that he couldn't speak. Finally, the man nodded._

_The literature student watched as Haruhiko covered his mouth with his hand and backed away._

_Haruhiko stared openly __at Hiroki__,__ fear and dismay plain on the man's face, __and Hiroki did not waver under the man's gaze. __Hiroki didn't even try to defend himself. Even if he wanted to, he didn't know what he could possibly say to make this situation better. The minute he picked up that knife, he had sealed his fate. _

_His life was over. He was going to jail, where he belonged. He was a murderer. He was a monster. He deserved no sympathy. He knew it._

_Hiroki watched as emotions flitted through the Usami rapidly. He had never seen such a strong reaction from the typically composed man. He supposed he couldn't blame him. No matter how much Haruhiko may have hated his brother, he would have never envisioned this to happen._

_Haruhiko opened his mouth and closed it. He frowned and then nodded, more to himself than anyone._

_"Get up."_

_What? Hiroki looked at the man with confusion._

_"Get up."_

_Slowly, the younger man stood and faced the other. Haruhiko fixed upon him a steely glare. __"I will take care of this. Go in one of the rooms, change into something clean, and get out. Forget this ever happened, no - this never _did_ happen, understand?"_

_Red brown eyes blinked. What was the man saying? How could he forget such a thing? He had _killed_ a man, for God's sake!_

_"Are you listening?"_

_Hiroki frowned. __Why wasn't he turning him in or threatening to call the police to arrest him?_

_"This never happened," Haruhiko repeated firmly. He put his hands on Hiroki's shoulders, giving them a good shake. "Repeat after me: this never happened."_

_There were so many questions in his mind but Hiroki could see that the man, while frightened, was serious._

_"This..." he cleared his throat. It was hoarse after so many hours of crying and screaming. _

_Haruhiko nodded at him encouragingly. "Go on. Say it."_

_"This... never happened."_

_The taller man nodded. "Good. Go, change, and never come back."_

_Hiroki hesitated before his legs moved stiffly on their own, disconnected from his mind, up the stairs and to the bathroom. He washed the blood off, from his elbows to his fingertips and his neck and face. He scrubbed until his skin was raw but that feeling was still there. He avoided looking at the mirror at all costs. The image of himself covered in his friend's blood would haunt him for the rest of his life. He opened the doors to the bedroom and randomly pulled anything out of the closet. He stripped down with cold fingers and gathered the bloody clothes in a heap. He walked down towards Haruhiko again, handing him the bloody clothes._

_Haruhiko took it without a word, the gears in his head already turning and no doubt formulating a plan._

_Hiroki picked up his jacket and messenger bag from the couch (it seemed like a lifetime ago when he had come into the condo and set it down). He reached the door on autopilot when he stopped with his hand on the doorknob. Slowly, he turned to Haruhiko._

_"Why?"_

_Haruhiko looked at him with an unreadable expression on his face. _

_"Just go."_

_And so he did. He stepped out that door and never looked back. _

He hadn't known where to go and what to do, which was how he found himself wandering aimlessly throughout the city until he had stumbled upon this park and finally came to a stop, resting his weary soul at this park bench in his current position.

The horror... he had never known himself to be capable of such terrible evil. He always knew his anger would be the cause of his downfall, but never in a million years would he have pictured this to be what ruined him.

And yet he wasn't.

Ruined, that is. Haruhiko's proposition had shocked him momentarily out of his numbness and before he even knew what he was saying, Hiroki had agreed to it. It had crossed his mind that maybe Haruhiko could have preserved the scene and called the cops the moment he left. The man could have merely said all that to appease him enough so that he could be arrested at a later date. Hiroki took the risk anyway. What choice did he have but to trust the man?

He had no idea why the man helped him, only that he didn't deserve this second chance.

But he was no noble martyr. He was a selfish, lowly human. He was only twenty-two. If he turned himself in, his life would have been over before it even began. He couldn't go to jail. He knew what happened to gay men in jail. And even if he wasn't sentenced to the death penalty or life in prison, even if he somehow got out alive, he wouldn't be able to survive in society. He wouldn't be allowed to graduate undergraduate school, much less get into graduate school. No university would ever accept him or hire him, not with the felony of manslaughter hanging over his head and permanently imprinted on his record. He would have hit rock-bottom with no way out.

He was going to Hell anyway. What was lying, but another sin heaped onto the already hefty accumulation of evil? No. He would not waste his life in prison.

A single teardrop hit his hand and Hiroki noticed with bitter amusement that apparently, his body found more nourishment for his crying. Just when he thought he was all cried out.

Right then, something came crashing down from the sky and scared Hiroki out of his self-induced melancholy. What the- was that a rocket?! The sound of rustling bushes behind him was the only indicator he got before a tall, dark, handsome stranger was standing before him, blatantly gawking at his tears.

Hiroki quickly looked away, ashamed to be a grown man caught crying in public. He should probably go. He had certainly embarrassed himself enough for one day, if not a lifetime.

Suddenly, he found himself pulled to his feet by the arm and grasped in the dark haired man's grip.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Kusama Nowaki."

* * *

When he emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, tendrils of steam pouring out from behind him and rubbing a towel through his wet hair, Hiroki saw that Nowaki had just finished setting the table.

He sat down and waited for Nowaki to join him across the table. He noted with much warmth and not much surprise that the table was covered in his favorite dishes. Typical of Nowaki to spoil him rotten even on a day meant for the both of them.

Nowaki set down one last dish before he bunkered down. He looked up at his lover and grinned. "Happy Anniversary, Hiro-san!"

"Yeah." Hiroki blushed and mumbled, "Happy Anniversary, Nowaki."

They smiled at each other before deciding to eat.

"Itadakimasu," they both said and they dug into dinner.

As usual, the food was delicious. They ate in comfortable silence, only breaking it now and then to talk about their day. They were half way done when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Hiroki said. He wiped his mouth on a napkin and opened the door.

A delivery man smiled politely at him. "Hi. I'm looking for Kamijou Hiroki?"

"Yes, this is him."

The man handed him a package. "Sign here, if you will."

Hiroki signed and took the package, sending the delivery man on his way and closing the door. That was odd. He had always been a technophobe and he particularly hadn't ordered anything online in a long time. "Nowaki, did you order something?"

"No?"

"Huh." He examined the package and shook it to see what could be inside. The address was not one he recognized, nor was the handwriting any more familiar. He took a box cutter and opened up the cardboard box.

"What is it?" Nowaki called from the kitchen table.

Hiroki didn't respond.

Nowaki got up and walked over to his lover. "What is it?" He peered over the brunette's shoulder and raised his eyebrows.

Hiroki was holding a plain white button down shirt. It was old, worn, and covered with brownish red stains. It didn't even look like a proper fit for Hiroki. It would probably be a tight fit, especially stretched out across the shoulders. It actually looked more like something right out of a slasher film.

"Who is it from?"

After a few moments, Hiroki cleared his throat. "Just a gag gift from Miyagi." He rolled his eyes in exasperation, "Yeah, he found out it was an anniversary today. This is just the kind of idiotic prank he would pull to ruin the mood and mess with me."

"Oh," Nowaki frowned. "That seems rather rude."

"Yeah, well, typical Miyagi. Actually, you know what? I'm going to go call him and chew him out. I'll be back in a few minutes, just keep eating without me."

"Okay."

Hiroki smiled at Nowaki before retreating to the bedroom, his hand tightly clenched around the note that Nowaki fortunately did not notice. He closed the door quietly and pulled out the note.

It simply said four words:_ I told you so._

His heart was beating out of his chest as he crumpled up the note and dialed a number on his cellphone. As he waited for the call to go through, Hiroki cursed his foolishness.

Of course. He should have expected this from Haruhiko. He should have predicted that the conglomerate heir would keep the shirt he wore that night just to use it against him now. _God_! He was so _stupid_! How could he have possibly believed that Haruhiko would let such a huge favor slide?!

Hiroki ran a hand through his brown locks and laughed mirthlessly. He was an absolute moron to have trusted the cold hearted man.

The call stopped ringing when the other line picked up. "Hello? Hiroki?"

Hiroki exhaled through grit teeth. He never thought he would need to make this call.

"Hi, Dad."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Good news, y' all! I probably should have included this in a note earlier, but **teabags **is no longer _not_ writing! Yes, that's right! Yay! For now, I'm still writing this story though, as she has not said that she wants it back. (I'm going to take that as a seal of approval.) So, look forward to more! I should just stop telling people when I can/cannot update because I never stick to those rules anyway. And I finally figured out that there was a traffic graph for all stories. 400 hits and only 4 reviews? :( You know... reviews _have_ been known to motivate me to update? :)

By the way, I did some research and the death penalty _is_ legal in Japan. Usually, capital punishment is only sentenced under the crimes of treason or murder and typically, it has to involve multiple murders with aggravating factors (like killing babies or something) but Hiroki is freaking out, so he doesn't really remember all that.


End file.
